Harry tried to think about the main content of the letter. He really, truly tried, but he still couldn't help laying awake that night thinking about her signature. 'Love Hermione'.

It didn't mean anything. He knew that, both in his head and everywhere else. Hermione wasn't like other girls, she'd wouldn't be coy about that kind of thing, it meant she loved him, as a friend.

But in all her other letters, the ones he kept with Ron's, she just signed 'Hermione'.

Would she... maybe be testing the waters?

No! He rolled over, hating himself. Little kids accidentally told their school teachers 'I love you,'. It was probably a simple mistake, or just nothing, not even that, she didn't like him that way. She probably liked Ron, anyway...

And Harry didn't like her that way. Right?

The letter. The content of the letter, the main part. Veela, huh? He'd never heard of that before. Hermione said she'd do more research and tell him about it. It sounded really cool, anyway, though he was still impressed with the idea of magic in general. Useful, too. The part about being beautiful and attracting men magically, he hoped that wouldn't make things awkward between them or anything.

Especially now that he was having these thoughts...

No!

He couldn't keep waiting. Hedwig was dying to get outside, if nothing else. He penned a letter back quickly enough.

Thanks for telling me this, you should definitely do more research, I'd love to hear more about this, hope your summer is going good too. Mindless chatter about Ron's obsession with the Quidditch World Cup and how the Dursleys were still, consistently, awful. He tended to just patter away in these letters to Hermione during the summer, but she did the same, so he figured it was fine. He was incredibly thankful, really. Ron was a great friend in person, but wasn't really able to get feeling into letters. It was Hermione who kept him from dying of loneliness.

A thought like that would never make him blush before. Ugh, stupid signature, stupid thoughts.

How should he sign?

Why was he even thinking about this.

'Love Harry'. Would that be okay? Well, she did it. God, why did he want to do it anyway, this was stupid, beyond stupid.

Hedwig hooted at him sharply, impatient. She was unhappy enough to have a rent-a-owl deliver his letters to him.

In his hurry, he wrote it. 'Love Harry'. Well, it was too late now, he wasn't going to rewrite the whole thing. He tied it to Hedwig's foot and sent her off. At least she was happy now. Though, thinking about it, Harry was suddenly happy too.

He shouldn't be, really. He had feelings to start examining.

Over the next few days, they exchanged a few more letters. Hermione had learned a little more about being a Veela. Not a lot. Lacy was clear and open, but not as knowledgeable as Hermione hoped. She said she'd tried practising her allure, but it wasn't working yet. The fever was gone completely, but the transformation of her core wasn't over yet.

Harry told her he hoped she wouldn't change too much, he liked her as she was now. She thanked him for that.

On the sly, he slipped in a question: Did she like Ron, that way? She denied it, but that confirmed nothing.

And all the time, both of them signed 'love'. It was just a friendship thing, Harry decided, or rather, forced himself to think. Friendship love. Love in a friendship way. He didn't like her that way anyway, definitely.

He was curious what she looked like now. She described the physical changes she was seeing too. Apparently, her hair had died down, which Hermione found strangely depressing, and her skin seemed to fit better now. Harry didn't know what that meant. Her teeth, too, shrank from their charming size into a more normal depiction of beauty. Her eyelashes were longer, her skin paler. She was worried her hair might change colour, Lacy told her that happened sometimes.

Harry decided that whatever she looked like, he'd feel the same things for her. Which were no things, zero things. Just... friendship things.

They were going to meet again for the Quidditch World Cup. The Weasleys had won tickets. Hermione told him she was nervous. She still hadn't gotten around to tell Ron yet, but had decided to address it sort of off-handedly in the next letter she wrote him.

Harry wondered idly if she wrote as many letters to Ron as she did to him. Wondered if she liked Ron, that way. Probably did. Probably didn't write so many letters though, Ron sucked at that.

"Wow," Harry said. He hadn't even seen her face yet.

She turned around, hair swishing through the day summer air, and his jaw must have hit the ground. She looked down nervously, blushing, and Harry shut his mouth quickly.

"Sorry," He said, pushing whatever that was aside instantly, "I just... you have changed. You're still beautiful, of course – or more beautiful, I mean. Oh whatever, give me a hug already, stop being weird!"

Hermione laughed, but still half-tackeled him into one of her rib-crushing hugs.

"You're the weird one!" She cried out, pressing her somewhat new nose into his chest.

"You're the Veela!" He cried back, hugging her tightly and still blushing.

She laughed at him again. God, even her voice was different, more song-like. It was downright strange.

She pulled away and stepped back a bit, staring at him curiously. "Do you... feel anything, then?" She asked.

Harry bit his lip, "I'm not sure," He said, honestly, "You are definitely really pretty, though, beautiful. You always have been, but more classically now, I think. More... beautiful too."

He didn't want to insult her or be dishonest. He knew what beauty looked like. Besides, she'd get more beautiful as she got older, people did, so this was basically the same thing, right?

"I want to try something, Harry." She said stepping back, "Before I have to go let Ron have his opinion on it. I think I've got the hang of the allure now. It's always on, I think, but I can... sort of poke at it, manipulate it and make it stronger. Could I try that on you? I – well, I haven't had anyone to test it on. It doesn't work on my dad, thank god."

"Sure," Harry said, one hand on the back of his head.

Hermione clasped her hands in front of herself and closed her eyes. She poked one open, looking out. "Feel anything?"

"Um, no, actually." Harry said, a little embarrassed. Seemed like she hadn't gotten the hang of it after all.

"Oh." Hermione said, seeming a bit put out. She'd probably been hoping for a different reaction. The allure could be really useful, she'd explained, off the battlefield and on it. A great new tool that didn't even really drain on her magic energy.

She shook her head, throwing the expression off of it, "Guess I still have to practice, then?"

Harry smiled, "We going to go meet the Weasleys, or what?"

She giggled again. Harry was really happy nothing seemed to have changed between them. She was still the same Hermione, too, inquisitive, fun to be around. He just had to get used to a new face and a new voice with it.

"Whoa!" They heard Ron call out when he spotted them coming up the road to the Burrow.

"Whoa," Fred and George said in unison, also staring out the window.

"Hey, everyone!" Hermione called out, acting perfectly casual. Harry knew she couldn't have missed their expressions, but let them all pass, so no one would have to feel awkward. She didn't always see other people feelings so well, but she did truly care about them.

"Hermione!" Ron called out, "You look gorgeous!"

"Looks like my hair will be the same colour, too," She said, "I'm glad it didn't change."

"I don't know, I've always like blonds..." Ron said, apparently not aware of the awkwardness of that statement.

"Ron!" Harry said, lightly punching his best mate in the arm.

Ron ignored him, "Gorgeous, Hermione, really!"

Hermione blushed and looked down, embarrassed again. Harry almost wanted to be upset at him, but he knew he'd done the exact same thing when he saw her.

"Even we have to admit," Fred said.

"You do look great." George finished.

"Thank you, everyone. I'm really bashful at all of this."

"Right," Fred said, "Not to worry, you're still just a kid sister to us."

"Willing to bet every male in the house is going to have this reaction, so get ready for it." George said.

Hermione nodded, taking on a determined face.

George was right, for the most part, though Arthur didn't seem bothered beyond some sort of pride. He thought of Harry as one more son and Hermione, apparently, as one more daughter. He must appreciate that one more daughter growing in a beautiful woman.

Ginny, too, had matured since last year and Harry took care to mention it. She was certainly a pretty girl, just because Hermione was in the room didn't mean that should be forgotten. Ginny seemed to appreciate it. She seemed quite a bit more over that crush of hers than in years past too, and Harry appreciated that. She was more a sister to him anyway.

Like Hermione, he made himself think.

Ginny pulled Hermione away pretty fast for girl-talk, leaving Harry able to spend a bit of quality time with Ron. He'd missed him, especially since Ron couldn't communicate well through letters like Hermione did.

Ron only seemed able to talk about Hermione for the moment, though. Harry had to admit, big change, and he'd had a lot longer to get his head around it than Ron had.

"Do you think – do you think I could ask her out?" Ron asked him, in the sanctity of the Chudley Cannons memorial/Ron's bedroom.

"Oh," Harry was caught off guard by the question, "I... um, if you like her, yeah. Being open about your feelings, that's important. But now might not be the best time for that, you know."

"I don't!" Ron said, "What time could be better than the present? You shouldn't wait on these things, you know, you said it yourself, it's important to be open with your feelings."

"Well, I just mean if you do it now, Hermione might think you're only doing it because of her looks. I mean, she knows you, and all, but it could still come across weirdly. You gotta be tactful about this, stuff, you know?"

"Na," Ron said, waving Harry's words aside, "I'll take her outside after dinner, by the blackberry bushes. That's a great place. Fred said he thought it was romantic and no one gets more tail than he does. Except for George. And Charlie. And Bill."

Ron looked a little bitter suddenly.

"Trust me on this," Harry said seriously, "Just wait for, like, a week man."

Ron was silent a moment, "You're right. I'm being stupid, aren't I? I'll wait."

Harry was relieved. It wasn't the worst situation in the world, a pretty good one, actually, but he still figured Hermione didn't need the stress of wondering if Ron meant it on top of everything else.

That did make Harry think a little, though.

Did Ron mean it?

Well, he though, a little bitter now himself, it wasn't his place to decide that. It didn't have anything to do with him.

He didn't like Hermione or anything like that. Not as anything more than friends and her being more beautiful now than ever wasn't going to change that.

They met Cedric Diggory going to the games via port-key. He was nice enough. Harry had known of him before, but never known him. He didn't pay Hermione undue attention, which was a good sign. Her affect wasn't too strong, wouldn't get in the way of her daily life too, which reassured both Harry and Hermione.

Men's eyes, and a few women's eyes, did seem to linger on her a little longer than they would have before, but hardly noticeably, just as they would any particularly beautiful girl. No one approached her or anything, which Hermione had been a little worried about.

The tent was amazing. Magic, really! He'd never stop being amazed.

They were impressed by the shows put on by the mascots and both paid special attention to the Veela performance. Harry, mostly because he had no other choice. Like every other straight man there, he was enraptured. He had at least managed to stay in his seat and keep his jaw closed.

"Wonder if I'll be able to do that one day." Hermione said to him.

"I bet. You're damn good at magic." Hermione smiled at him for that. Enchanting, even without the teeth he knew.

The Quidditch was simply amazing, keeping even Hermione who wasn't altogether too interested in sport, on the edge of her seat. Harry found himself wondering along thoughts similar to hers as he witnessed a particular dive. Wonder if I'll ever be able to do that...

Celebrations raged into the night. Then the chaos happened.

"Hold my hand!" He shouted at Hermione as they fled, so he wouldn't become separated from her. Neither had the slightest clue what was going on, but panic was a particularly contagious emotion. After the dangers they'd faced in school, well, they had no reason to believe there wasn't truly something to be panicked over.

Harry fell in their rush, only falling to his knees thanks to Hermione's tight grip, but yanking her back a little with him. They were separated from the group instantly in the flow of people moving like a river. She pulled Harry to his feet, but not before a man kicked him, hard, in his flurry to escape.

Hermione howled, the most frightening sound Harry had heard in a long time, sounding like anger, pain, and fear all at once. Feathers burst from her flesh, wings from her back, her nose was replaced by a small, scaly beak. Her eyes... and her hands. Fireballs hovered at her fingertips.

"Veela!" Someone shouted. Death eater, that's who it was! Harry knew the mask all right, he'd seen pictures in the papers.

Hermione, screeching, threw the balls in each hand at him in rapid succession, and more formed before the man had a chance to recover. He fled instantly, along with everyone else around. They had breathing room in the throng of people

Hermione seemed to wither back into her proper self and clutched her head as if in great pain.

Harry hugged her tightly, not knowing what else to do, his eyes still scanning the horizon for more danger.

"It's – fine," Hermione choked out, "My first transformation. Just wasn't expecting it, is all. You're supposed to do it slowly, the first time, all calm and safe and -"

"Don't worry," Harry said, knowing they couldn't stay here, "Let's go, quickly."

They fled the scene immediately, following in the general direction the rest of the crowd had been going. Tall Weasley figures were easy to spot and they were reunited with the group quickly. Harry found relief that they returned for the two rather than just fleeing in panic with the group.

Ron hugged Hermione too, probably somehow sensing her panic from the transformation and knowing it meant she needed him more than anyone else did.

Harry nodded to Hermione over Ron's shoulder and went around the group to make sure everyone was okay. Arthur seemed to have already covered that just fine and was still looking carefully at every kid in his flock.

"Feather stuck in your hair," Harry heard Ron say to Hermione.

"I guess Veela do moult." She said blankly.

A couple weeks later they were in front of the Hogwarts Express. Again, in such a public arena, no one unusual approached Hermione, though she definitely got more than one double-take. Malfoy, being one of those double-takes, gave Harry a sort of satisfaction he didn't really understand.

She didn't show anyone, but Hermione felt an undue sense of nervousness. She definitely noticed those second glances just as much as Harry did and they made her feel self-conscious. Being beautiful like she was now, well, she certainly didn't mind that. She just wished she didn't have to show up with a new face like she so clearly had.

In the past few weeks, Ron had been acting rather oddly, too. Harry, the rest of the Weasleys, were thankfully clearly safe enough from her allure, but Ron seemed to having trouble getting used to it. That really worried her. He should get used to it over time, but if he didn't... she really hoped this wouldn't end up tearing their friendship apart. If it did... well, it wouldn't, she reassured herself for the umpteenth time.

He didn't speak to her the same way he used to. Was always staring at her, almost wistfully. Sat too close, once or twice she even caught him playing her hair. Ginny noticed, Hermione knew, and even had a talk with her brother about it, which seemed to help.

She wondered if Harry noticed.

"Come on," He said to her, pulling her by the hand. She smiled and nodded, following along to find a compartment for the four of them while Ginny ran off to find her friend, Luna who would make five.

Hermione had gotten a lot closer with Ginny the past few weeks, a rapidly growing relationship. She was anxious, now, to meet this friend of Ginny's. Ginny was sure they'd get along but had warned Hermione extensively about the girls mannerisms and oddities. Hermione was confident she'd get over them quickly enough – if Ginny liked the girl so much, she had to be worth it.

"You seem nervous," Harry whispered in her ear when the others weren't looking.

"You know, I kind of am. Talk later." She whispered back.

Harry nodded and withdrew.

That was another person she'd become closer with recently.

Ginny and Harry together we ever her confidants. More and more recently, she felt she could trust the two with anything – oh, and Ron too, of course. Sort of. But Harry was the person she went to when she needed someone to talk to. They spoke to each other about their problems. Harry's nightmares, Hermione's worry about her parents relationship woes, their shared worries for the new year.

She wondered if Ginny and Harry would ever get together. They might be a good match. Ginny had that crush on Harry, too, though that really seemed to have fallen off now. Maybe not, she shouldn't go seeing roses and veils everywhere she looked, both of them could find someone completely different. Probably not even this year, maybe next year they'd all start dating, or the year after that.

"But the wrack-spurts -" She heard a voice say just outside the compartment.

"You'll be fine," Ginny's voice said, "My friends are really nice, promise."

"...Okay." The girl, who must be Luna, said.

Clearly they weren't aware that the people inside were privy to their little conversation. Hermione was determined to befriend this girl, she needed more girlfriends. Not strictly need...

The door was swept aside with a whoosh as Ginny's bright hair paraded in, a strangely pale, ethereal-looking girl with silvery-blond hair pulled in behind by her wrist.

Luna, for her apparent reluctance to enter, had an expression of utter calm. She looked dreamlike and peaceful, fairy-like, even. Very beautiful indeed. Furthermore... Hermione felt a strange feeling. Not just nervousness, something magical there.

Luna smiled at everyone in the cabin as they introduced themselves, going down the list one by one.

"How do you do?" She said simply, half-curtseying, half-making an awkward kick with her left leg.

The compartment was more crowded then it usually was for just three people, but not altogether too bad, especially for Hermione and Harry, who sat on one side, while Luna, Ginny, and Ron squeezed together on the other. Make for four people, the cabins.

"Ah, you're a Veela, aren't you?" Luna said. It seemed like she was looking at Hermione, but could just as well be looking through her.

"Yes," Hermione said simply, "Did Ginny tell you that?"

Ginny's raised eyebrow at her friend told her that she did not.

Luna shook her head and closed her eyes. It seemed to take her a little longer to do these things than it did other people. Only a half-second, maybe, but it was there.

"No, I can feel it. Can't you?"

Hermione shook her head, confused.

Luna giggled slightly, "I'm Veela too, of course – very new to it all, I'm afraid."

For a moment, the compartment was so silent you could hear a pin drop.

"I can feel it!" Hermione exclaimed, "That's what that feeling is! So that's how people know... You're Veela, huh, and new to it? Me too, just this summer!"

While everyone else gaped in astonishment, Luna nodded serenely, "Summer for me as well. Very late in the summer, really, I'm not finished yet."

"Really?" Hermione asked, "You're beautiful."

Luna's smile would seem small on other people, but on her it was like she was grinning widely. "Ah, thank you, I suppose. I'm not used to that, quite yet. You're certainly still the more beautiful of the two of us."

"Enough with the compliments!" Ginny cried out, "Why didn't you tell me, Luna!"

"We didn't get a chance to talk this summer." Luna pouted, "It was recent enough, anyway, so I figured I'd tell you on the train. Exactly what I'm doing now. Well, now that's done, so how was your summer, Ginny? Everyone, I suppose."

"Luna!" Ginny said, "This is a big deal! It was enough to take in that Hermione was one, now you too?"

"I already told you that I was secretly a jack-rabbit and you didn't seem very impressed then."

"You were kidding then!" Ginny said, pointing an accusatory finger.

Luna seemed honestly confused, "Was I?"

"Yes!" Ginny exclaimed.

"Oh, well, I suppose I was then. Thank you, Ginny."

"You're welcome!" Ginny finished, "I mean, when did you find out about it?"

"I got really sick one night. Fever just kept getting worse and worse. I thought I'd been bitten by one of the vicious volcano spirit spiders, but it wasn't that. Daddy was out of town for a little while, I was on my own. But I had a book, you see, about Veela, that I remembered I used to read when I was younger. When he got back, I had already started to look different and my father confessed about it. His side of the family, I'm about quarter Veela. It seems to be coming in strongly on me, though, it's about a year early."

"Your hair, too," Hermione said.

Luna shook it, the silvery-blond locks flying from side to side, "Actually, that's just a family trait – coincidence."

"Right," Hermione said, not fully believing that.

"Well, Luna, you know we certainly won't treat you any differently about that." Harry said, "It's good to meet you, I'm glad to get to know one of Ginny's close friends. If people at school do give you trouble, you come to us, all right? Any of us."

Luna smiled dreamily, which seemed to be something of a default expression for her.

"Oh, thank you, Harry." She said, seeming honestly very grateful.

Ron, tactful for once, diverted the conversation away before an awkward silence could occur, "So, Luna, you're the one here who isn't Gryffindor. Probably the only person I know who isn't Gryffindor, actually..."

For the rest of the ride, they chatted amicably. Hermione asked about the radish earrings, the butter-beer cork necklace. She was definitely weird. Very weird. But likeable, very likeable, and a companion for Hermione in all things Veela. It felt better than she'd thought it would, not being alone in that anymore. She'd never even knew she'd felt badly about it. The timing couldn't be more perfect.

And then Malfoy pulled open the compartment door and opened his stupid, fat mouth.